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Chapter 171: Who Assassinates the Assassin?
🕑 Added 2025-10-30 23:26:51 +0000 UTCThe night air was thick with intent as Kai released his gold-level mental power, letting it wash over Russell's manor like an invisible tide. No subtlety, no finesse—just raw power flooding every corner of the property.
"Let's see where you're hiding," he muttered, a predatory smile playing at his lips.
Why should he care about being discovered? He was a gold-level cardmaker hunting a silver-level brat. The kid should be pissing himself right about now, not that it would matter. Dead men don't tell tales about who killed them.
The mental probe swept through rooms and hallways until it hit something interesting—a spot actively pushing back against his intrusion. Not just passive resistance like a ward, but active blocking. The kid was awake and aware.
"Oh, found you." His smile widened.
The wind seemed to bend around him as he vanished, reappearing a heartbeat later inside an elegantly appointed study. The lamplight cast warm shadows across leather-bound books and polished wood, but Kai's attention was entirely focused on the young man sitting behind the desk.
Russell looked... amused? His skin practically glowed in the lamplight, an almost ethereal quality to it that Kai hadn't expected. More surprising were the several stunning female figures standing around him—cards, obviously, but there was something different about them. They weren't in defensive positions. They were just... watching. Staring at him with expressions ranging from mild interest to outright boredom.
One of them—a blonde woman with an otherworldly beauty that made his chest tighten—had an aura that felt strangely familiar. Like recognizing a colleague's handiwork, or catching a whiff of the Society's particular brand of violence. But Kai pushed the thought aside. He was here to complete a mission, and he needed to be quick about it. What if that terrifying woman, Hazel, came back early?
He shook his head, annoyed at himself for wasting time on observations. "You actually sensed me coming?" His eyebrows rose slightly. "And you're not afraid?" Another shake of his head, more decisive this time. "Whatever. Why am I wasting time talking to a dead man?"
The confidence in his voice was absolute. He'd already dismissed the cards as irrelevant—beautiful, yes, but silver-level cards against a gold-level cardmaker? Please. He might as well be fighting children with sticks.
Then Russell spoke, and everything changed.
"Here?" The young man gestured casually to an ornate chair that seemed to rise from the shadows themselves, materializing beside Kai like it had always been there. "Sit."
One word. One simple, ordinary word that shouldn't have meant anything.
Kai's body moved without his permission. His muscles locked into a motion he hadn't initiated, legs bending, arms adjusting for balance as he lowered himself into the chair like a puppet on strings. The movement was stiff, mechanical, completely outside his control.
What the fuck?
"You... what did you do to me!?" The only thing he could still control was his mouth, and even that felt like a small mercy rather than a right. His mind raced, trying to understand how a silver-level cardmaker could possibly control him this easily. This wasn't a card ability—he would have sensed that. This was something else, something that bypassed all his defenses like they weren't even there.
Russell cut him off before he could voice more questions. "Kai, right?"
The casual use of his name hit like ice water down his spine. Nobody should know that name. He'd been operating under cover identities for years. The only people who knew his real name were—
Of course. Of course Misty had given him up. That bitch.
"How... how do you know my name!?" The words came out strangled, but even as he asked, the pieces were falling into place with horrifying clarity.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down his back as a memory surfaced—gossip he'd heard among the Society members in Northgate. Whispers about the organization's hierarchy. Beyond Regent Jin, there were supposedly five others. High-ranking Masters with titles instead of names. Lord One through Lord Five. The contract that bound all Society members supposedly gave these Masters absolute power over lower-ranking members. Complete, inescapable control.
The way Russell had commanded him with a single word...
No. No fucking way.
"This is impossible," he breathed, his thoughts spiraling. The Masters worked exclusively in the coastal regions where the real threats were. Northgate was a backwater, a place for washouts and has-beens. Nobody important came here. Nobody who mattered paid attention to this provincial hellhole.
Unless...
His voice came out as barely more than a whisper. "I don't know... which Lord you are?"
Russell leaned back in his chair, a casual motion that somehow made him seem larger. The lamplight caught his face at just the right angle, throwing the upper half into shadow while highlighting the slight smile playing at his lips. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of absolute authority.
"Just call me Lord Six."
"Six... Six..." Kai's mind stuttered over the number. The rumors had always said five. Five Lords under Regent Jin. But if there was a sixth...
The math wasn't hard. This man—this boy who looked barely out of his teens—must have joined the Society before Kai had even arrived in Northgate. Everything made sense now. The position as Blake Whitmore's disciple wasn't luck or talent. It was a mission. Deep cover infiltration of the Association's power structure.
And Kai had just tried to assassinate his superior officer.
I'm so fucked.
His face contorted into something that might charitably be called a smile but looked more like he was trying not to vomit. "Lord Six," he managed, his voice cracking like a teenager's.
In his head, he was composing elaborate curses directed at Misty. That manipulative bitch had sent him on this assignment. She'd pushed him toward this job knowing full well—she had to have known. This was her shoving him straight into a fire pit and watching him burn.
Russell just nodded, accepting the title like it had always been his. "The Wu family asked you to come?"
Kai's head bobbed so fast he probably looked like one of those dashboard dogs. "Yes, Lord Six! But you can't blame me for this!" The words tumbled out in a rush. "It was my superior who asked me to take on this task! She said it was a priority assignment, that the pay was excellent, that—"
"I know." Russell's flat tone cut through his babbling. "I ordered it."
The words hit Kai like a physical blow. He froze, brain trying to process this new information. Lord Six had... ordered his own assassination? No, wait. Lord Six had ordered him to take the job, knowing he would...
Understanding dawned, and Kai's expression shifted instantly from panic to fawning obsequiousness. The change was so complete it was almost comical—from terrified prey to eager sycophant in under a second.
"Lord Six, you are indeed brilliant!" His smile was so wide it had to hurt. "None of the Wu family's little moves escaped your eyes! Playing them like puppets, letting them think they had the upper hand when really—"
Russell raised one hand, a simple gesture that might as well have been a slap for how quickly it shut Kai up.
"My senior sister should be back soon," Russell said, checking an elegant watch on his wrist. "You can make some noise in the yard on your way out. Make it look good—like the attack failed and you had to retreat."
The casual way he delivered the instructions made it clear this was all part of some larger plan. Kai found himself nodding along eagerly, desperate to show he understood, that he could follow orders, that he was useful enough to keep alive.
"As for the Wu family..." Russell's expression turned thoughtful, tapping one finger against the desk. "See if there's a chance to kill Wade. If the opportunity presents itself, take it. If not..." He shrugged. "Don't force it."
The dismissive tone didn't fool Kai for a second. The Wu family had revealed murderous intentions toward Lord Six. There would be consequences. And if Wade ended up dead? Well, that had nothing to do with Russell Whitmore, Blake's innocent disciple. That was the Spirit Begging Society's business, and everyone knew those terrorists were unpredictable.
"What the Spirit Begging Society does has nothing to do with me, after all," Russell added, as if reading Kai's thoughts. The slight smile that accompanied the words was sharp enough to cut glass.
"Yes, Lord Six!" Kai's enthusiasm could have powered a small city. His dignity as a gold-level cardmaker had evaporated the moment he'd realized who he was dealing with. Now, anger was building in his chest—not at Russell, never at Russell—but at the Wu family father and son who had caused him this misfortune. They'd hired him to kill his own superior. They'd nearly gotten him executed for treason against the Society.
Wade Wu was going to suffer. Oh, how he was going to suffer. Kai would make absolutely certain of that.
"Go on, then."
The dismissal was casual, but Kai reacted like he'd been shot from a cannon. He vanished from the study instantly, as if staying one second longer might change Russell's mind about letting him live.
A moment later, a massive explosion rocked the manor grounds. The sound was impressive—multiple detonations in sequence, the kind of attack pattern that suggested a serious assassination attempt. Thick smoke began billowing up into the night sky, obscuring the stars and casting dramatic shadows across the property.
Russell moved to the window, frowning slightly at the destruction. Kai had definitely delivered on "making it look good"—maybe a little too good. The eastern garden was completely destroyed, and there were going to be questions about the crater where the fountain used to be.
After a moment's consideration, he turned to Fubuki. The psychic gave him a knowing look and floated out after him into the yard. At his signal, she began using her telekinetic powers at maximum intensity, creating barriers and force waves that would leave the kind of energy signatures consistent with a desperate defensive battle.
Russell let his mental energy drain rapidly, his face paling as he pushed himself to the edge of exhaustion. By the time Hazel arrived, he looked exactly like someone who'd barely survived a gold-level assault.
She appeared in front of him like smoke given form, her movement so fast it seemed like teleportation. Her eyes swept over him, cataloging injuries that weren't there but checking for them anyway. The guilt on her face was immediate and crushing.
Before she could speak, Russell got in first, his voice appropriately strained and breathless. "Senior Sister, you're back." He managed a weak smile. "Just now, a cardmaker from the Spirit Begging Society attacked me."
He gestured vaguely at the destruction around them. "But fortunately, he seemed worried about you returning, so he only managed a few quick attacks before running away."
The lie came easily, naturally. He'd gotten very good at playing the role of Blake's innocent disciple.
Hazel stood perfectly still for a long moment, processing this information. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Junior Brother, I was negligent."
The weight of self-recrimination in those four words was immense. She'd been lured away, leaving him vulnerable. In her mind, she'd failed in her one job—protecting him.
Russell shook his head immediately. "It's okay, I'm not injured anyway." He tried to inject some lightness into his tone. "Besides, didn't you have your own trouble to deal with, Senior Sister?"
She was silent for several heartbeats. Then, so quietly he almost missed it: "The Wu family."
He wasn't surprised. Of course it was them. If they wanted to attack him, they'd need to get Hazel out of the way first. The Wu family might be arrogant, but they weren't completely stupid. Nobody wanted to face an angry diamond-level cardmaker in a straight fight.
"Forget it, Senior Sister," Russell said, trying to project calm reasonableness even as exhaustion made his legs shake. "I'm fine. Really. There's no need to start a conflict with them over this."
Hazel looked at him—really looked at him. Took in his pale, exhausted face, the way he was subtly leaning against Fubuki for support, the destruction around them that spoke of a desperate battle for survival. Her expression never changed, but something shifted in her eyes.
"Okay," she said simply.
"Then you should go back and rest as soon as possible, Senior Sister," Russell suggested, trying not to make it sound like he was desperate to be alone so he could stop maintaining this act. "I've almost completely exhausted my mental strength. I don't think I can hold on much longer."
It wasn't even a lie. Between the transformation of Kiss-Shot earlier and now forcing his mental energy to deplete, he really was running on fumes.
"You should go and rest first," Hazel said, her tone gentle but firm. "I have to report to the Association about what just happened." She paused, then added, "Don't worry. I'll leave a card here to protect you."
Relief flooded through him. She was buying it. He'd successfully played the victim, hidden his true role in events, and now—
He'd already started walking toward the manor when the wind carried her voice to him, so soft he might have imagined it if not for his enhanced hearing.
"...I will help you get revenge."
The words followed him into the manor, a promise and a threat rolled into one. Russell kept walking, didn't let his step falter, but internally he sighed.
Well, shit.
Hazel planning revenge on the Wu family was going to complicate things. Not because he cared about what happened to them—they could burn for all he cared. But revenge meant attention, and attention meant scrutiny, and scrutiny meant people might start asking uncomfortable questions about Russell Whitmore and his convenient survival of multiple assassination attempts.
He needed to plan his next moves carefully.
But first, he really did need to rest. Playing triple agent was exhausting work.
(End of this chapter)
Comments
Raphael Espinoza Angulo
JSJSJSJSJSJS poor wage earner. Hazel deserves more love.
